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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23006884">breathe in fire</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sign_from_god_complex/pseuds/sign_from_god_complex'>sign_from_god_complex</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sanders Sides (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst and Porn, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Light Smut, Logic | Logan Sanders Has Feelings, M/M, One Night Stands, Sad Ending, again if that's a thing that's what this is, far many more than he would like, more like prose than real smut</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 09:53:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,279</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23006884</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sign_from_god_complex/pseuds/sign_from_god_complex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“He hadn’t known why he was telling this stranger his name—he hadn’t known why either of them was doing any of this—but Logan knew he couldn’t have stopped. Their fates had been decided on the second they’d caught sight of each other and somehow, for some reason, Logan felt he was alright with that.”</em>
</p><p>Or, Logan makes a decision and wrestles with the repercussions.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>46</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>breathe in fire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The title is from Fire by Sara Bareilles, which I was listening to on repeat as I wrote this cause it gave me strong logince vibes (most of that album does, in fact, I highly recommend it).</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was quiet.</p><p>Logan watched the rise and fall of his bedmate’s chest as he steadied himself to leave. His clothes were lying in a pile by the dresser, pulled from his body in a moment of languid passion that Logan felt he may never be able to replicate. The early morning sun was peeking in through the curtains and he watched as it chased the darkness from the room, solidifying his surroundings in his mind.</p><p>He hadn’t expected to end up here when he’d visited the bar that evening—he hadn’t actually expected to end up anywhere barring back at his apartment, considerably drunker than he should be—but the moment had carried forward like a train on tracks, unable to deviate from exactly where he’d known his destination was going to be.</p><p>When they’d locked eyes across the bar, Logan had sworn his heart had leapt in his chest. It was a cliche, and Logan hated cliches, but he’d known that if he didn’t do something he would spend far too much time regretting it. The stranger, it seemed, had had the same sense. He’d wandered his way over towards Logan, signalling the bartender for another drink before sliding into the chair next to him.</p><p>There had been a moment where neither of them spoke, eyes roaming over each other’s bodies with a mostly contained heat. Carefully styled brown hair, extremely tight jeans, a smirk that had no right being as hot as it was had all been adorning the man in front of him and Logan would have scowled but he had been too busy trying to remember how to breathe.</p><p>(Now, the hair was mussed from Logan’s pulling, pants discarded on the floor and his expression was soft. Calm. <strike>Beautiful</strike>.)</p><p>“Roman.” The strang- Roman’s eyes had been locked on his chest but as he’d spoke, his gaze had flickered up. The emotion held in Roman’s face had been impossible to identify—curiosity? carelessness? lust?—but regardless he’d felt his pants tighten. He’d ached to see more of it, wanted to see that gaze run all along his skin, following careful touches and peeling back every layer Logan used to keep himself safe.</p><p>His breath had quickened as he’d downed the rest of his drink, wincing slightly at the burn it caused. “Logan.”</p><p>He hadn’t known why he was telling this stranger his name—he hadn’t known why either of them was doing any of this—but Logan knew he couldn’t have stopped. Their fates had been decided on the second they’d caught sight of each other and somehow, for some reason, Logan felt he was alright with that.</p><p>Roman had leant in at the admission, dropping his hand on Logan’s thigh, near enough that he’d almost grazed his half hard cock and the warmth had burned Logan’s skin through his pants. His breath had hitched.</p><p>“Alright, Logan,” Roman had said, mouth so close Logan had been able to feel the breath tickling his ear, “You wanna have some real fun?”</p><p>The sex hadn’t been dirty, it had been an exploration, filled with sweeping hands and wandering eyes. They had been intrigued by each other, wanting to discover every bit of the other’s skin and how they fit together. And they did fit—strangely perfectly.</p><p>Each kiss had been passionate but slow, like warm honey dripping gradually down a knife—unfulfilling but beautiful; a prelude to something infinitely more satisfying. The sex had felt a natural evolution, no moments of insecurity or uncertainty. Logan had been carried away, swept up in a wave of lust and something else he still couldn’t identify but willing to drown if it meant for <em>once in his life</em> he was allowed to let go.</p><p>He’d known from the start moments like those had consequences. He’d opened himself up to emotions—to desire and longing, to heartbreak and want—and now he had to pay the price.</p><p>Logan slipped out of the bed, staring intently at Roman’s chest to ensure his breathing hadn’t changed. He tried not to remember how that skin tasted, how he’d arched, pushing his chest up into the air as Logan had swallowed him down because he was sure if he remembered now he might never be able to forget.</p><p>After a moment’s hesitation—a moment longer than Logan should have allowed himself—he gathered up his clothes, slipping them back onto his frame. He could feel the remnants of last night in every inch of his body. Bites covered his neck and collarbone and he pulled a scarf off of the hook on the back of Roman’s door in an attempt to cover them. He doubted he would miss it.</p><p>Logan deliberately patted down his pockets, thankful to feel his cellphone where he had left it last night. He didn’t check it, he knew what it said. There would be a million missed calls from his roommate and his roommate’s boyfriend, because despite him telling them both multiple times that he was an adult and they didn’t need to coddle him, they both never seemed to cease their worrying.</p><p>But he couldn’t be concerned about that right now. Right now he needed to be concerned about leaving before Roman awoke, before he was forced to admit why it was that he was going even though every fibre of his being wanted to stay, before Roman talked him into remaining here with him and talked him into lazy morning sex and talked him into staying for breakfast and talked him into getting coffee with him and talked him into falling in love with him because he <em>couldn’t</em>.</p><p>Logan knew words is all it would take. Falling in love with him seemed like it would be so easy, so Logan couldn’t let him.</p><p>The trip to the front door was shorter than he’d wanted it to be. It was ridiculous, but he almost wanted Roman to stop him. As he’d closed the door on the bedroom, catching his final glimpse of Roman’s sleeping form, Logan had wished for him to blink his eyes open. He imagined Roman pinning him to the wall, chest pressed flush against his as he captured his mouth in a searing kiss and Logan wouldn’t be able to leave.</p><p>But he hadn’t, so Logan stepped out of the apartment.</p><p>The sun had settled over the horizon in the time since he had awoken, casting long shadows against the ground and melting the frost that lightly covered the windows of the nearby cars. Logan rubbed quickly at his arms as he tried to fight the chill that ran through him. He recognised a few landmarks but in the early morning light and the darkness of his mood, they all seemed slightly off.</p><p>Regardless, Logan knew how to get home from here and possibly that was worse than not knowing because now Logan would have to sit in his room, intensely aware that he could go back to Roman at any time but he couldn’t come to him. This entire encounter had been painted on Logan’s terms—Roman putting himself out there when he first spoke to him, giving him the chance to turn him down; Roman offering to bring them back to his apartment, presenting Logan with the option to leave at any time; Roman letting Logan have the choice to go or stay… and the choice to return.</p><p>But he was a coward, and he knew he wouldn’t do it.</p><p>He set off towards his apartment, foolishly hoping with all of his shallow, broken heart that Roman wouldn’t mean a thing in a weeks time. Even though he knew that wouldn’t be the case.</p>
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